Take a look at the prologue

I started to write a story, which I am thinking to expansion into a novel. I, now, am going to share a short prologue, please take a look and leave a review:

~ Prologue ~ The hauntings the Brocéliande forest concealed claimed the flesh and souls of countless French civilians. Its dense canopy, advancing shadows and writhing, sinister souls mirrored the living nightmares amongst people. None dared to peer beneath its depth, where death was the very own necessity to the labyrinth, where incompletely gnawed brains, hearts, human corpses lying in their own pool of blood were found occasionally. The aerial roots of the trees manifested as if it were shrivelled, dried up human intestines. The past lore spread like wildfire through France; rituals had been done where certain eyes could not draw their attention to; the demonic acts done by the bondsmen of people those who believed in witchcraft. No one knew from where this group, steeped in such conjuring, satanic activities, had emerged. But the result lured their own creation to annihilate them and erase from existence. The members vanished but the abomination still remained, lurking behind the towering trees, whose branches intertwined like skeletal fingers, or were they the skeletal fingers? Or What was it?

Old weathered signs nailed to the tree trunks, the cryptic warnings and meanings residing in them: ‘Beware the hollow paths, where light fails, darkness feasts.’ It was once said that, ‘If those who hear the woods sing will not live to see the dawn.’ Neither of one mocked them for long. Nightmares plagued even in the farthest corners of France, nightmares of tall figures dragging them into the void. They heard disturbing whispers, forcing them to step where none would. The trees unnaturally voluble in voices too soft yet too loud to ignore. The world would end without warning. Towns had fallen silent. Broadcasts stopped, first in rural towns, then cities, until only the distant hum of static remained on every station. For years, the forest’s insatiable hunger grew.

People thought should the forest is overlooked, it could bring a disaster so humiliating that it would result in mass extinction. The nearby towns, once vivid and full of life, experienced paranormal activities. So scared the citizens would become that suicide rates kept growing exponentially. Nevertheless, cold and sharp dying breaths of something unseen echoed everywhere. Hazy dark ochre-colored fog engulfed the area. Moving figures could be seen. Pulsating lights appeared and disappeared, like ghostly eyes watching from a distance while unnatural, guttural, perhaps...inhuman voices subjugated the realm. Only the last screams could be heard from those who dared to venture inside the forest.

God, no! Where am I? This cursed place reeks of death and despair! For Christ’s sake, let the Almighty have mercy—let me live! But... what in the name of all that’s holy is that? It’s there, looming over me, its shadow suffocating, its presence searing into my soul like molten iron! Those eyes, lifeless yet burning with rage, peeling me apart layer by layer. It knows I am the prey. Shit! It’s moving closer! Crawling, morphing... I can almost feel it ready... ready to rip into my fatal body, tearing sinew from bone. It will drink—sip my blood like the finest, aged wine from a chalice of horror! It won’t stop, it won’t stop until every piece of me is shredded and devoured! This isn’t death. This is annihilation. Hell would be a sanctuary compared to this. There’s no escape, no salvation. Oh God, it knows I am its meal! I am the sacrifice tonight!

The screams would never cease yet no one could do anything, fate had to be accepted. What really was out of sight that kept people micturating themselves? Slowly, the deaths of people would increase so quickly, the end of the era might have begun.